Way Down We Go
by imaginationrunsfree
Summary: This delicate situation between them was bound to implode at some point. Set during Season 2, WynDoc, pregnant Wynonna. T for language and implied sexual content.


His piercing blue eyes bore into her. "Sometimes I think you must really hate me."

"yah, well, sometimes I really do!" shouted Wynonna. Her cheeks red and lips pressed together in anger. Doc Holliday seethed back, his chest heaving; bushy mustache twitching into a snarl. He leaned toward her menacingly, looking like he wanted another round. Never one to back down, Wynonna did the same, her pregnant belly protruding like the proud head of a rooster. It was the sight of said belly that caused Doc to pause, before turning round and slamming his fist against the wall.

"Grrryah!" he shouted, the clapboard walls shaking with the might of his fist. He walked away and out the door, slamming it open so hard it nearly came off its hinges. Wynonna watched him stalk across the homestead. Pulling a cigarillo from his pocket, he lit it and took a drag like it was his last breath of fresh air.

Following suit, she too took out her anger on the nearest inanimate object, kicking some ceramic creature of Waverly's onto the floor, smashing it to pieces. The broken pieces made a satisfying crunch beneath her boots. _Shit_ she thought. _I'm going to need to clean that up and I can barely bend down to get my boots on with this stupid belly in the way. Why does he have to be such an asshole sometimes?_

She toddled over to the kitchen to grab the broom and dustpan, her flowered apron fluttering over her baby bump. Luckily, locating the pieces and sweeping them into a pile didn't prove too hard. Plopping the dustpan on the floor, she brushed the shards onto the plastic tray in one go. Satisfied, she reached forward and... _Damn._ Her fingers only went as far as her knees. _Maybe if I..._ she attempted to bend at various angles, each one failing her somehow. At one point she managed to grasp the dustpan, but upon her ascent, tilted it too far and proceeded to dump the shattered remnants all over the floor.

"God fucking dammit!" she cried. "Miracle of life my ass!" she grumbled, poking accusingly at her belly. She sighed, pushing her long brown curls from her face and biting her lips. She glanced towards the front door. Was it worth it?

 _Ahh fuck it. We have to finish this conversation at some point._

Grabbing her coat, she stomped out into the yard, her breath forming clouds in the cold winter air. She glanced around the front yard. No Doc. She checked the barn, his old cot and blankets still set up in the corner, just in case, but still, no Doc. _No way he actually decided to walk back to Purgatory, right?_ It was then that she heard the gun shot and thud of a metal can. _Ahh, target practice._ She should have known. There were few guarantees in life, but one could always count on Doc to do at least one of three things if he was upset, and often a combination of all three; smoke, drink and shoot. If the man hadn't been living at the time of actual cowboys he would be labelled as redneck as they come in today's society.

Can after can dinged, thudded and whistled as Doc's single action Colt army and Colt lighting pistols sent out shot after shot. It was amazing that those cans were willing to even stay upright, they had so many holes burned through them. "What do you want Wynonna?" he grumbled, turning towards her while knocking off the last can with a pinkie shot. Damn that man was a marvel with his guns.

"Would you believe it if I told you I needed help cleaning something up in the kitchen?"

"Hhmphh" he snorted, holstering his weapons. The Wynonna he knew rarely asked for help, being a young, bull-headed, independent woman. Save for when she was demon hunting of course.

"No, really." she said, deadpanned. "I'm larger than an elephant's backside and I can't bend down to pick up the crap I broke after you left."

Doc watched her for a moment, taking in her form before him. Her hair fanned out over her impossibly furry collared coat, her cheeks round and red from the cold night's air. She shifted from side to side impatiently, her many buckled motorcycle boots crunching in the snow. She looked at him expectantly, silently saying 'well?'.

He tipped his black cowboy hat long and slowly towards her, his opposite hand pointing the way. She rolled her eyes at him but smiled, trudging back towards the house through the snow. Though he didn't often express such sentiments out loud, when she needed him, Doc would do anything for the Earp heir.

He cleaned up the broken pieces while she began the washing up. He helped her scrape the globs of congealed macaroni and cheese from their plates and gnawed on the what was left of his t-bone, the only somewhat edible part of the dinner she had cooked him. As Wynonna wiped the counters and drained the sink, he gathered the trash and recycling and took it outside. When he returned, he found her splayed along the weather flowered couch in the living room, looking utterly exhausted. He took a seat across from her in an adjacent arm chair.

She sighed deeply, letting the weight of it all out. Being honest and upfront about their feelings was something neither of them was very good at. They were much better at the non-verbal stuff. The little looks, the smirks, the way his hands touched her in all the right places... _Focus Wynonna. This is how you got into this situation in the first place._

"Thank you. For helping back there."

Doc placed his hat on the coffee table before him, running his hand through his hair. "Happy to oblige."

The silence feel heavy between them. They still had unfinished business but neither knew where to begin. Finally, Wynonna tried.

"Doc., I..." He leaned forward in his chair. "I... just..ugg. Why must you be such an asshole sometimes? "

He blinked."Excuse me?"

"I mean, you tell me that you're all in, that you would give and do anything to ensure my health and happiness and the baby's. Yet you won't just give me the stupid ring! We need that seal to unleash demon Clootie and end this curse once and for all."

"Wynonna, you are failing to see the gravity in this situation. This ring is not just the third seal, it is my both my curse and my blessing. Without it I'm vulnerable, I can die."

"Just like the rest of us! Are you that scared of death? Are you that selfish , do you think yourself that special?"

"It is not my death that concerns me!"

 _Oh. Oooh. There it was._ Wynonna softened as understanding bloomed in her mind. She reached out and took Doc's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"If we release the demon Clootie now we are putting everyone in danger. Having that ring gives me the advantage Wynonna. It means I can be there to protect you, and the baby."

Wynonna teared up a little. Despite everything they had been through, Doc had always done his best to protect her."That ring is not what makes you the gun slinging, charming hottie cowboy that we all know and love. It may have enabled us to meet Doc, but it isn't you. Even without it you are still the best shot in the Ghost River Triangle and one of the best partners I could ask for in this crazy fucked up demon hunting world we live in."

Doc returned her fond gaze, eyes watering a little at the sentiment. " _Just_ the triangle? When have you met a better shot?"

The pair smiled, grinning at his terrible joke. Wynonna shuffled forward, her hand bringing his head towards hers, their foreheads touching tenderly. She sighed into the embrace as he stroked her hair. Slowly, carefully testing the waters, she brought her lips towards his. He didn't pull back as they connected, though the kiss was chaste and simple. It was more a comfort than Wynonna trying to start something. After the fight they had has it was something he was more than willing to grant, despite his ties to Rosita. Sensing she needed some more, he got up from his spot and moved to the couch, inviting her to lay against his chest. She cuddled up to him immediately, hand cradling her belly as she adjusted to get comfortable.

They sat like this for some time, his hand drawing soothing circles on her back. Her breathing was even and slow, so much so that he thought she had fallen asleep until her heard her voice, tiny in its embarrassment, utter a few simple words. "Doc, I'm scared."

"Of what darlin'?

"Of us. Of this baby. What it all means." Sensing there was more to be said he waited. "I saw her, him, _it_ at my ultrasound today. It was so real and yet so surreal. This gray and white blob of limbs with a big head moving around in there. She asked me if I wanted to know the sex of the baby and I just freaked. I couldn't get out of there fast enough."

"Darlin, I know this is hard. It isn't exactly like we planned for this to happen, but this baby is coming soon whether we are ready or not."

"Are you telling me you aren't the least bit scared?"

"Oh I'm terrified. Never once did I think I, John Henry Holiday would be a father, much less with my best friend's great great granddaughter. But, it's not like you are doing this alone. I told you I am all in Wynonna and I meant it. I will be involved as much or as little as you need me to be. No more, no less."

He couldn't see her face from this angle, but he could hear the sniffling and feel her shifting as she wiped the moisture from her face. "You say that, but what about once it's born? You live all the way in town and you have Shorty's to run. What if I need you in the middle of the night because I'm drowning in poopie diapers and just need some sleep?"

He considered this for a moment, his fingers playing with a loose tendril of her hair. "Well then, I'll move back in. The cot in the barn served me just fine before. Plus Rosita can run the bar for a little while."

"Right. _Rosita._ " she said with a pop of her lips. "Won't she be pissed if you shack back up with your baby mamma and former lover?"

Doc's mustached quivered as he considered this. "It might not be the most pleasant conversation for us to have, but Rosita is a reasonable woman, and our situation is merely casual. It allows our needs to be met."

"Jeez Doc you make it sound like you were just looking for the nearest hole to fill."

"Wynonna." He chastised. She sat up, pulling away.

"What? I mean, I know you aren't much of the 'settling down type' but surely she is more than just a bar wench and a casual bone."

He let her statement hang, just enough for Wynonna to feel the weight of what she was saying. She looked away awkwardly.

"Rosita is an intelligent, beautiful and capable woman...but she will never compare to you."

His blues bore into hers as the couple shared a moment. She smiled softly, eyes glistening once more. _Damn hormones._ Wynonna leaned in, capturing his lips with hers. This time, things were not so chaste.

She pressed into him, pouring out her feelings. His ridiculous cowboy mustache tickled as he pressed right back. Her hands found purchase on his lapels, pulling him impossibly close. Their lips danced over one another's, growing more and more desperate. Finally, Doc's strong hands founds her shoulders, and gently but firmly, drew them apart.

Her eyes searched his face. She stretched back towards him, reaching, waiting for him to come back to her. He did not. Her head fell against her chest, eyes squeezing shut. She sat back on her heels, refusing to look at him. He just sighed heavily.

This was a dangerous game they played, this back and forth. From fighting one minute to love making the next, they were like a row of dynamite; sizzling and sparkling, leaving damage with each blow. If they couldn't figure this thing of theirs out what would happen? What about the baby?

"I think you better go." He tried to reach for her but she brushed him off. "You can take the truck. Waverly should be home soon anyway."

"Wynonna..."

"Just go Doc." Accepting defeat, he placed his hat on his head, and did just that.


End file.
